Chapter Text
“You know, that kind of sounds like Andrew.”
Nicky’s comment could’ve sent a silent killer throughout the entire room with how quickly everyone had shut up the moment he said it.
Allison’s jaw dropped, the book she was brandishing falling to her lap, horror crossing her face like a new make-up glam. She had just been talking about a new “book boyfriend”, a concept that was entirely unfamiliar to Neil, the same way movie references were.
She’d describe someone brooding and apathetic, quiet and dangerous, but soft and considerate to the person he loved. Neil had been listening simply out of duress. In fact, he was there in the first place out of duress.
Ever since they won against the Ravens, the Foxes had began a weekly gathering to foster “camaraderie” or “teamwork”, as Dan had insisted. The only one who didn’t attend was Andrew, which wasn’t entirely surprising, but Nicky, Aaron, and Kevin attended with Andrew’s implicit consent.
Neil wasn’t the type to involve himself with this type of situations, but Matt urged him to with his puppy dog eyes and morose expression. Neil simply had to attend if only to stop Matt from getting emotional and prevent him from crying.
Aaron had already left, undoubtedly meeting with Katelyn again, his not-so-secret-girlfriend-anymore, while Kevin had passed out on the couch after the tenth vodka shot. Renee had left even earlier than Aaron after the last pizza slice had been eaten. So, the only ones awake were Neil, Nicky, Allison, Dan, and Matt. The “last men standing” as Nicky had aptly put it earlier.
Neil was sitting in a small circle with them, his back against the couch, a warm untouched cup of beer in his grasp. Neil didn’t know how he got there, or how he was roped into the current conversation with Allison regaling the tale of her latest “book boyfriend”. He didn’t even know Allison read books like that, but Allison admitted it was a guilty pleasure of sorts.
“No one knows that he can cook except for the female lead because she’s the only one he cooks for,” Allison had shared with an excited gleam in her eyes, fanning her face with her hand, as if the scenario had caused steam to rise across her cheeks. “He drives a fast car and he always makes the female lead sit in the passenger seat. Then, when she asks if she can drive his car, he duplicates his car keys and gives them to her.”
“Babe, that’s the bare minimum,” Dan had chimed in, a red cup against her lips. “And I should know because my standard is Matt Boyd.”
Matt, who sat cross-legged beside Dan, had a silly grin at his girlfriend’s words. He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her cheek soundly. Dan wrinkled her nose at him. Nicky cooed.
One of Allison’s eyebrows had risen. “He broke someone’s hand because they touched the female lead without her consent.”
Dan had paused, the cup tipped to her mouth. “Okay, that’s something else entirely,” she conceded with a shrug before drinking from the cup.
“He also buys the female leads clothes,” Allison giggled—Neil swore she was giggling—behind her book, showing them the cover of the book: a half-naked man with oiled abs. Neil was pretty sure they were edited. “Like he picks them out before he takes her out to dinner.”
“Isn’t that a bit controlling?” Dan had remarked. “Why can’t she pick her own clothes?”
Allison had clucked her tongue. “Because, Danielle. It’s the principle of the thing. He picks clothes out for her because he doesn’t want her to feel embarrassed or self-conscious because they go to fancy and high-end restaurants.”
“I would die to have someone buy me clothes,” Nicky had said with a dreamy sigh. “But it’s also just so rewarding to dress a partner up. I love picking Erik’s clothes for work or when we go out.”
“You get it, Hemmick!” Allison had exclaimed, jutting her finger at Nicky multiple times, enough to nearly take Neil’s eyes out.
Dan had sighed. “I’m just saying that she should at least have a say in how she dresses.”
Allison ignored her as she perked up in excitement from her spot in the beanbag chair. “Oh, and you know what’s up? He beat up the guys who tried to beat up her little brother! The little brother was gay and the guys were making fun of him, so my boyfriend beat them up for their homophobic comment. Gosh, it’s so hot when they get protective.”
“That’s an ally,” Matt had commented with a gesture of his hands, carving an invisible curve in the air, like a rainbow.
And it should’ve ended right there. Allison should’ve added more about her latest obsession or Dan should’ve made another ran about how “female leads should stand up for themselves and not wait for the man to do it.” But then Nicky just had to drop the ultimate comment that would ruin Neil’s life forever:
“You know, that kind of sounds like Andrew.”
They all froze. Matt choked on air while Dan’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. Neil frowned, looking over at Nicky whose dopey smile suggested his state of sobriety (which was to say: nonexistent at all).
Neil tried to find some correlation between Andrew and the book boyfriend that Nicky apparently saw in his drunken state, but couldn’t. Because the book boyfriend and the entire book in general was about “steamy sexy scenes that could make panties cream.” Allison’s words, not Neil’s.
Frankly, Neil just couldn’t see Andrew as a ‘sexual’ being—not that he often saw people that way. But with Andrew, it was even more so. Andrew barely tolerated people standing near his presence, what more if they shared the same breath? Neil wasn’t even sure that Andrew was human most of the time. Andrew just seemed too unreal to be one. And now, he was apparently a “book boyfriend”?
“What do you mean that kind of sounds like Andrew?” Allison demanded, her words coming out in a strained tone.
Nicky giggled, fluttering his eyelashes. “Well, didn’t he beat up four guys for me when they tried to beat me up for being gay? In fact, he sent those guys to the hospital! That’s why he had to be medicated, ya know? So, kind of like your book boyfriend, Allison!”
Everyone blinked at Nicky. Allison laughed suddenly, a sound of disbelief mixed with denial, before vigorously shaking her head.
“No, no. No!” Allison exclaimed. “What the fuck are you talking about? My book boyfriend is not a blond, five feet tall, emotionally repressed, and psychotic monster, Hemmick. My book boyfriend is a dark, six feet and two inches tall, emotionally repressed and sexy beast in the sheets!”
“So, maybe not the height,” Nicky said, “but the other things are so Andrew-coded.”
Matt laughed. “I think you need to lay off on the drinks, Nicky, or the drugs,” he said playfully.
Nicky huffed at them. “It’s true. I wouldn’t be saying it if there aren’t any similarities. In fact, Andrew’s exactly like that, you know?”
Dan opened her mouth, before she shut it close, then opened it again. “Are you saying that Andrew… can cook?”
“Oh, his enchiladas are to die for,” Nicky groaned, throwing his head back. Dramatic. “Andrew doesn’t do it all the time, mind you, because he’s lazy, but when he does, I swear to all of my closeted gay ancestors that his cooking can send me to heaven and back. If someone sends me on a death row, that will be my last meal.”
Neil stared at Nicky. “How come I never see him cook before?”
Neil lived in the same dorm room as Andrew. He often went with them to Eden’s and stayed at their house in Columbia for the weekend. Neil had never seen Andrew touch a stove nor had he seen him anywhere near the kitchen. Andrew survived on the steady diet of ice cream, cereals, and spite. Needless to say, he constantly stressed Kevin out.
“He only cooks when he feels extra stabby,” Nicky revealed with a cheerful grin. If Neil wasn’t so used to Nicky’s exuberant mood everytime he was drunk, Neil would’ve been confused by Nicky’s proud proclamation of Andrew’s “stabby” mood. “I think Bee suggested that to him, to cook when he feels extra murderous. It’s a therapeutic thing.”
Allison’s left eye twitched. “So, he cooks. Big deal. That doesn’t mean he’s anything like a book boyfriend, much less mine!”
“He does drive a fast car,” Matt mused aloud, then raised his hands when Allison turned betrayed eyes at him.
“Et tu, Matt?”
“Oh, hey! I’m just saying! Andrew drives a Maserati. Before that, he drove the GS.”
“He even gave Neil the extra car keys,” Nicky added, “just like how your book boyfriend gave a copy to the female lead.”
Neil tried not to fidget when they turned their eyes to him. He honestly didn’t know why this matter was a big deal. He didn’t read much—especially the type of books Allison seemed to enjoy reading—as he didn’t have enough time, what with being on the run from his psychotic, serial killer of a dad, and the mafia in addition.
He didn’t enjoy reading as he much preferred to stay clear with the present. If Neil got lost inside his head, if he relied on fictional worlds and characters, Neil might as well have signed his own death warrant. Exy had been enough to tide him over, even if it was now a sport that held his bloodline after making a deal with Ichirou Moriyama. Still, Neil wouldn’t trade it for the world.
So, he couldn’t relate to Allison’s—and everyone else’s—incredulity about Andrew sharing similarities to her “book boyfriend”. Frankly, Neil still didn’t understand what a book boyfriend is. He gave up trying to ask the third time Allison mentioned the “spicy” scenes.
“Is that true?” Allison demanded.
“What is?” Neil shot back, defensive.
“Did Andrew really give you a copy of his car keys?”
“Yes, so?” Neil answered easily. They stared at him, making him bristle. “What’s the big deal?”
It was just car keys. It wasn’t something to talk about. Neil didn’t find it important—not like the keys to the Columbia house at least. That key was nestled beneath Neil’s shirt, hanging from the chain around his neck. He kept it close to him ever since Andrew gave it.
It was the very first time someone gave him a key. A home. Neil wasn’t going to lose it anytime soon.
“God bless his soul,” Dan muttered, the first to look away.
Matt was gaping at him. “Dude,” he said, “he gave you keys to his car.”
“Yeah,” Neil agreed, slowly, eyeing Matt like he was the problem. “He did. So, what?”
Allison looked like she was hardly breathing, eyes wide and unseeing, her face turning redder and redder by the minute. Neil barely stopped himself from reminding her to breathe, instead scooting away from her, lest she snapped out of her daze and stab the nearest person next to her. Neil wouldn’t put it past her to stab him.
“Ignore them,” Nicky said, waving his hands dramatically to dismiss the others. Then he turned to the others to add, “Also, Allison, you mentioned about your book boyfriend buying clothes for his girlfriend? Well, everytime Neil joins us for Eden’s, Andrew’s the one buying and picking out his clothes for him. And it always makes Neil look good.”
“Less of a hobo, more of a Greek God?” Allison demanded, making Neil frown especially when Nicky nodded his head enthusiastically.
“I do not look like a hobo,” Neil muttered, sounding petulant.
“You do,” both Allison and Nicky intoned.
Dan’s eyebrows rose, her gaze darting to Neil. “So, he picks out clothes for you and makes you wear them, and you… don’t complain?”
Allison’s back went rigid. “Yes… you don’t even fight him on it, Josten? You—with all of your attitude problems—won’t fight against Andrew dressing you up?”
Neil scowled at their prying. “Do I look like I have a choice? For one thing, Andrew might be the one dressing me himself if I don’t wear the outfits he picks.”
Matt’s shoulders jumped, startled. “Do you think he’d do that?”
“Touch aversion aside, I wouldn’t put it past Andrew,” Neil muttered dryly.
Besides, Neil thought quietly to himself, he actually liked the clothes Andrew chose for him. Out of the people that constantly bought him outfits, Neil much preferred the options that Andrew chose. Nicky tended to give him clothes that were revealing and tight, the measurements consistently changing (from tight, tighter, to tightest).
Meanwhile, Allison gave clothes that were far too expensive and eye-catching, the colors so vibrant it’d be hard to hide among the crowd. Neil might not be running anymore, but the paranoia that his mom instilled into him and from his life on the run was still ever so present. He’d rather not draw attention to himself, which meant he refused the clothes Allison picked.
On the other hand, the clothes that Andrew picked were always comfortable. The fabric was soft and non-irritating, especially against his scars. Even the black armbands that Andrew gave Neil to hide the scars over his arms were soft and felt heavenly against his skin.
The colors were inconspicuous as they ranged between grey, black, dark brown, dark blue, and burnt orange. It was surprising since Andrew seemed to be allergic to colors other than black. Somehow, the clothes also always fit him perfectly, although Neil didn’t dwell too much on that fact.
Allison dropped backwards on her beanbag, blinking at the ceiling. “No, I refuse to believe that Andrew Minyard, that psychotic midget, be anything like my book boyfriends.”
“Aw, why don’t you just try admitting defeat, Allie?” Nicky cooed at the blonde, smiling widely at the glare she aimed toward him. “It’s true, though! Andrew’s like a patent of all those dangerous and sexily scary main characters in your books.”
“Andrew? Sexy?” Dan spat out incredulously.
“Have you seen his arms?” Nicky shot back, making Dan pause.
“Dude, that’s your cousin,” Matt told him.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes,” Nicky remarked dryly. “He might be my cousin, but I can at least say that he’s a hot cousin.”
“Nicky,” most of them groaned, with Dan throwing a pillow at Nicky’s face.
Unbidden, Andrew’s arms came flashing through Neil’s head. Large. Sculpted. Strong. Neil suddenly felt his mouth dry and, for the first time, he took a sip from his red cup to wet his mouth. The warm beer made him grimace as the taste flooded his mouth, so he put it down.
He squirmed in his seat, ignoring the flare of heat in his stomach. Yes, Andrew did have amazing biceps. They often went to the gym together, so Neil knew what Andrew did to get those. He just hadn’t realized that those things qualified as being ‘hot’ for other people.
Was Andrew hot? Neil asked himself, his lips parting as images of Andrew’s heated stare flash across his mind like some kind of movie montage. Strangely, heat crawled up to Neil’s neck.
“Really,” Nicky continued even as Allison’s face turned sour, “the only difference is the height, but it’s not like it stopped Andrew before. Gosh, the amount of people that would hit on Andrew…”
“Wait, people hit on Andrew?” Matt repeated, recoiling back like he was attempting to avoid the idea physically.
Neil blinked, the images of Andrew’s eyes dispersing at the weight of his new revelation, because this was all new information for him too.
Neil was aware that Andrew was objectively handsome. He was incredibly masculine with broad shoulders, sculpted biceps, and a trim waist. He cleaned up well—even Allison admitted that Andrew had good fashion choices for a man—and he always smelled really good the few times Neil sat close to him, even after practice sometimes.
Andrew wasn’t charmingly good-looking like Kevin (Neil heard a few girls describing Kevin as such and nearly stopped himself from bursting into laughter because charming and Kevin didn’t seem to fit into the same sentence). Nor did Andrew have Matt’s boyish good looks or affable demeanor nor Nicky’s cheerful, aggressively flirtatious personality.
But Andrew had a magnetic presence and a solid build, one that would prompt anyone to lean their weight against him because he was safe and grounding. His stare was always piercing and intense, although its apathy was notoriously intimidating.
So, yes, Neil could see how Andrew invited attention. But he’d never seen anyone approaching Andrew before, not like how Nicky said it.
Neil gripped his red cup tighter and only noticed when the cup crumbled in his grasp, the drink overflowing to his hand. He silently put it down, fingers flexing as droplets slid down his skin to the carpet.
“Oh, people try,” Nicky said with a scoff. “Others are too chicken to even try talking to him, not when he looks like he can kill you and drink whiskey afterwards without a problem. But that just means that the people who do talk to him are the persistent types.”
“Oh,” Allison intoned knowingly. “The ones who won’t take a hint?”
“Those types, but like worst,” Nicky confirmed enthusiastically.
Neil wondered how enthusiastic Nicky would be when Andrew found out he was talking about him. Neil didn’t think Nicky would be enthusiastic again once Andrew was done with him.
“For some reason, Andrew attracts assholes and bitches,” Nicky continued, frowning at the empty cups in front of them. “Like all the cocky, trust fund kids who won’t take no for an answer and the persistent, overconfident twinks who thinks no is just another code for ‘maybe not yet’. You know, the type who sees Andrew and takes him as a challenge, someone to conquer.”
Neil’s eyebrows furrowed, something like lead weighing his stomach. The idea that someone would see Andrew as some kind of conquest, rather than a human being, didn’t sit well with Neil.
“I hate those types,” Dan grunted, shaking her head.
“They’re the worst, right?” Nicky commiserated. “Unfortunately, they’re drawn to Andrew like bees to honey. Sometimes, they’re great to be around because it means we get free drinks. But other times, they’re just so annoying. Thankfully, it only takes a few threats and a knife to their throat before they get the hint and go away.”
Neil didn’t know much about dating or “hooking up” as he had neither interest nor desire for such a thing, but he could imagine that a knife to their body would definitely turn people off.
“Well, Andrew does look like the bad boy who’s cold to everyone but sweet to the person he likes,” Dan admitted then looked like someone struck her upside the head. “Oh my god, Andrew is a book boyfriend.”
“No!” Allison immediately refuted with a vehemence that had Neil leaning away from her. “I’m not falling for this propaganda and neither should you, Wilds! And even you, Boyd!”
Dan sputtered into her drink. “I’m not falling for anything!”
“I might,” Matt muttered, his expression warring between wonder and bewilderment. “But hey, does Andrew even swing or is he like Neil?”
“What do you mean ‘like me’?” Neil asked, frowning at Matt, hackles raised.
Matt put his hands up in a placating manner. “You know—you don’t date. You’re not interested in anyone. It’s not a bad thing, Neil.”
“It’s a waste though,” Allison muttered, to which Neil ignored.
“I figured, maybe Andrew’s like you?” Matt continued. “Maybe, Andrew isn’t interested in anyone too?”
Allison snorted. “That’s the worst, because it means whoever garners Andrew’s interest is special enough to keep his attention,” she grumbled, glaring at the cover of her book. “Just like the male lead in this book.”
“But we don’t know,” Dan reminded them, before she turned to Nicky. “Or, do you?”
Nicky’s shoulders drooped. “I actually don’t know. Aaron’s as straight as they come, so maybe Andrew is too? Andrew isn’t exactly the most forthcoming.”
Allison snorted. “Way to say the obvious, Hemmick.”
Nicky pouted. “When I tried mentioning Renee to Andrew, he just said to drop it before he guts me and force feeds me my own innards or something.”
Neil leaned back, bringing his knees to his chest, as he recalled his conversation with Renee a while ago. Renee insisted that nothing would happen between her and Andrew. She didn’t exactly state a reason why, just that their preferences didn’t align.
The only reason why there was still a bet among the Foxes about her and Andrew was because Andrew didn’t care enough to correct them. Well, Andrew didn’t bother to speak to them most of the time anyway.
Then Neil remembered Roland, the bartender at Eden’s who hinted that there had been a dalliance or two between him and Andrew when he mentioned a handcuff and “not following instructions”. Neil had been too confused and preoccupied to mention it to Andrew that time. Neil wondered if it was a sex thing that he somehow missed.
Try as he might, Neil couldn’t imagine Andrew letting himself be vulnerable and intimate with someone else, not even Roland whom he seemed to know well. Andrew always seemed untouchable and infallible, above mortal desires and follies. Yet, Neil learned (painfully, under excruciating circumstances, like a red bus running him over twice) that Andrew wasn’t always that way.
The Drake situation (and what situation it had been) was a rude wake-up call to everyone that Andrew wasn’t a psychotic, violent-prone, monster. He had also been just a child forced into circumstances that was out of his control. The monster comments dwindled since then.
Aaron had taken the fact all too hard that his twin brother wasn’t some kind of soulless monster. It had prompted him to approach Andrew and start joint therapy sessions with Bee in an attempt to understand each other better. It ultimately ended with Andrew and Aaron breaking their deal and Andrew allowing Katelyn to stay in Aaron’s life without Aaron having to hide her.
It had been a development that still brought tears to Nicky’s eyes whenever he saw the twins getting along or at least trying to get along. Now, the twins held weekly therapy sessions out of their own volition.
But with the Roland situation at hand, Neil couldn’t help but wonder. Did that mean that Andrew was gay or at least bisexual? Was that the reason why Renee insisted that she and Andrew would never be together?
Neil gulped down the lump in his throat. For some reason, he felt the urge to go to Andrew and ask him right now; he wanted to ask if Andrew was attracted to men or not at all, if there was something between him and Roland, or if there still was something happening.
Neil didn’t know why, but it made his legs itch to run—preferably to oncoming traffic.
Allison waved Nicky off. “Andrew’s not good enough for Renee anyway.”
Neil frowned, clenching his jaw. Before he could say anything, Nicky gasped. “Excuse you, that is my cousin. But also, you’re right.”
“I don’t see it,” Allison said, a stubborn pout over her lips. “Andrew can’t be like my book boyfriends. That would imply that he’s—he’s—that he’s my type of something! Ugh.” Her face contorted with disgust.
“Woah, let’s not go there,” Dan said, eyeing Allison warily. “He can’t possibly be your type or anything, even if he’s a five feet tall man who is build like a tank, can cook, drives a fast car, has and buys tasteful clothes, and beats people up for not respecting the people he loves.”
Everyone went silent for a brief moment. Then Allison muttered, “Oh my god, he is a book boyfriend.”
The door suddenly opened and everyone scrambled into some semblance of casual comfort when Andrew walked into the room.
“Everyone, shut up,” Dan hissed at them for good measure.
Neil shook his head at their guilty expressions, especially Matt’s. Instead, Neil opted to watch Andrew, wondering what the fuss was all about with Andrew being a “book boyfriend”.
Neil’s spine straightened, gaze stuck at Andrew’s broad shoulders, the silver glint of his eyebrow piercing, the indifferent expression making his hazel eyes go half-lidded. When Andrew turned his head, hints of dozen of ear piercings could be seen peeking through his blonde hair, layered in different size and shapes, all silver.
Neil pressed his lips and his thighs together. He had never seen the appeal of piercings before. With his life on the run, and being captured by Lola and his dad, Neil didn’t want any sharp objects poking or adding more scars to his collection. But Andrew had begun getting his face pierced after Aaron’s trial for Drake’s murder.
First, it was Andrew’s ears. Then, it had been his eyebrow. Neil didn’t know if there was more as Andrew rarely talked about it (or at all) even after Nicky’s badgering. Because of the piercings, however it became easier for others to determine which was which between the twins.
Andrew suited the piercings, Neil realized belatedly. Previously, Neil hadn’t thought much of Andrew’s piercings at all. But now, as if their prior conversation about Andrew had flipped a switch in Neil’s brain, he couldn’t deny that Andrew looked good wearing them.
“Andrew?” Nicky spoke up, surprised but happy. He was quite impossibly the only one. “What are you doing here, little cousin?”
Andrew merely gave his cousin a brief look but hardly spared a word, making Nicky pout. As for the rest of them, they might as well be air. Andrew stopped by Kevin’s slumped form on the couch, his chest rising for a brief moment before falling softly. The closest thing to a sigh he was capable of producing.
Neil blinked when Andrew toed Kevin’s side with his black, platform boots. Kevin mumbled something incoherent. Then, without a word, Andrew took Kevin’s arm and slung it over his shoulder. Neil froze when Andrew slid his other arm under Kevin’s legs, struggling to close his mouth when Andrew suddenly pulled Kevin to his chest.
Just like that, Andrew was carrying Kevin like some kind of princess. Kevin, who was at least six feet tall and twice as tall as Andrew, if not more, slumped comfortably against Andrew’s chest, snoring.
Behind Neil, someone—suspiciously sounded like Allison but Neil wasn’t going to point that out for fear of his life—whimpered.
Neil’s hands curled on the carpet, his knuckles white, as Andrew adjusted Kevin, his muscles flexing. He didn’t even look like he was straining from Kevin’s weight, like Kevin was just another one of the barbells he was used to using in the gym.
Andrew turned to them, gave a brisk nod, before turning away and walking out with Kevin’s in his (bulging, sculpted, strong) arms, walk steady and purposeful. He didn’t even huff or pant with exhaustion, merely kicking the door closed behind him.
“I can’t even carry Kevin without breaking my back, man,” Matt commented, voice set between awe and fear.
Neil pressed his lips together, his stare stuck to the door that Andrew left through.
“You… have got to be fucking kidding me,” Allison hissed behind him, a sound of defeat that Neil felt all the way to his entire soul.
“He is so boyfriend-coded,” Nicky continued to coo.
Neil snapped his gaze toward him. “Boyfriend-coded? What do you mean? I hardly think that Andrew is Kevin’s boyfriend.“
His mouth shut audibly, teeth clacking together, as they turned to him. There was something like light amusement flashing through Nicky’s gaze, gone before Neil could ask why Nicky was looking at him like that.
“It’s just a saying, Neil,” Nicky said, a placating tone in his voice, making Neil frown. “He did just bridal carry Kevin out of here.”
Bridal carry? Neil’s left eye twitched. He pressed his lips together, lowering his gaze to glare at the carpet. Next time, he’d make Kevin chug a gallon of water back to sobriety before Kevin could bother Andrew. He didn’t care whether or not Kevin choked if it got him sober.
“I’m lost, I’m broken,” Allison said in lament, looking down at her book in horror. “I can’t believe this. My book boyfriend is fucking Andrew Minyard.”
Matt tilted his head to the side. “Does that mean that Andrew’s boyfriend material?”
Everyone stared at him in varying degrees of horror.
“Say that again and I might reconsider marrying you,” Dan remarked and Matt raised his hands in a surrender.
Before long, their topic of conversation changed, the matter of Andrew being a book boyfriend buried between them like a dirty secret. When they left, they had an unspoken agreement not to speak of their discovery to anyone else.